Euthanasia
by ingthing
Summary: A little one-shot about the Death Doctor in his field doctor days. Edited!


**Euthanasia**

I enter the tent, unsure of the sight I was seeing. Hundreds of men, blood-covered and disfigured, were laid out before me.

"Aren't there any more doctors?" I turn to the captain. "There are too many injured here."

The captain, in his pomposity, puffed up his chest and shook his head. "A few aids, and that's all. It's your job alone, doc. Now get in there, and start saving!" With a shove of my back, he saluted, and marched ostentatiously back to his tent.

I decided to look at all the patients. Walking briskly past them all, moans and cries of pain grew louder and louder, into an unbearable clamor. I turned my attention to a patient who was screaming in pain.

An aide explained the situation to me.

"So a bullet wound in the chest area and both legs blown off, hm?" I shake my head as the man's voice grew shrill with agony. "Well, it wasn't like I thought this would be an easy job, anyways."

I listened carefully to the soldier's heartbeat. Amidst the screaming and moaning, I could tell that this man needed surgical help. With 2 limbs detached and a bullet near his heart, there was little I could do to save him. Wanting to give him another chance at life, the aide and I lifted him carefully onto a stretcher and then onto the makeshift surgical table. I slipped my arms into a smock, put on my gloves and cap, and slid the curtain shut, shielding the patient and myself from the terrible sight of the medical tent.. I picked up a syringe, and injected an anesthetic into his bloodstream. He grew silent, and I cut into his chest. I came to his heart, and I found that the bullet was lodged stubbornly in his aorta.

_I can't take the bullet out._

My head grew faint.

"D-doc! Just kill me! I don't want to live anymore!" He screamed.

I hesitated. All my life, throughout Medical School and my life as an intern, I had been told that the Patient's life was all that mattered.

"I-I need to think. Give me a few moments." I stepped away to the other side of the curtain, my head spinning with apprehension.

He can't be saved.

This operation's too risky- in a dirty environment such as this, the risks would be too high. Secondary infection and bacteria would set in as soon as the operation was over.

_He can't be saved._

The aide called me. "Doctor. Doctor!"

In a stupor, I selected a syringe of poison from my supplies, and stepped towards the patient. He looked at me, trembling.

"Listen. I'm going to inject a poison into you. You won't live, but that is your wish, isn't it?"

_"Doctor, this is unethical! Stop this, please!" _

He nodded faintly. Accepting this as his answer, I slid the needle into his perspiring neck.

"T-thank you, D-doc..." As the deadly concoction made its way to the patient's heart. A few moments later, the man's head jolted to the side, and he was still.  
I pressed a stethoscope to the man's chest. There was an eerie silence as the aide gaped, his eyes bulging in shock.

"W-What have you done!" He whispered. "You're a murderer! What about the Hippocratic Oath! Aren't you a doctor!"

"I did what I had to do." I pulled the dirty sheets over the cadaver's head. "Please register him in the army office death record."

I turned away, and I felt a hand grip my shoulder.

"You." The aide was shaking, and a tremor in his voice gave away his fear. "You're not getting away."

A wave of emotion overcame me, and tears welled up in my eyes.

"I did what I _had to do_. Please allow me to attend to the other patients."

"I'll call the cops, you _bastard_!"

I look back, the mixed feelings of bitterness and relief flowing over my face.

"You think I _really_ wanted to do that?" At once, the aide's expression changed to that of revelation, and he released my shoulder.

After I called a different aid to register the patient as dead in the Army Office records, I sat there, desolate, at my desk. I look up at the other patients, all writhing and wailing in pain.

_Treating them all is futile._

I made my decision.

One by one, I told them they had two choices: To live, or to die.

Most of them picked to die. They would rather be free of the pain than suffer any longer.. Every last one of them thanked me.  
_  
To be fatally wounded and still not be able to die; that is true agony. Death is the only way out for these men.  
_

* * *

"Your trip was a waste, huh?"

"You think so? Heh." I sneered.

"You haven't brought me to my knees yet, Black Jack. I mean to help people die. From now on, too."

I looked down, consumed in thought. Where I looked down was white butterfly, naked against the dark slate steps.

I grasped it between my fingers, and with a mere motion, crushed it to pieces. The delicate white scraps rained down.

"All living things die when the time comes. Humans alone try to change that." I laugh. "What will you do now, Black Jack?"

The sullen surgeon shot me a scornful glance. As he opened his mouth to reply, he was cut off by the cries of the Hospital Director.

"Black Jack! The patient is_ dead_!"

"_What_! But how..."

"A truck hit her ambulance! The whole family, dead!"

_How futile this man's actions are. We live, we die. What difference does it make if the latter happens prematurely?_

"Kiriko!"

I start up the steps with an idle wave.

"I know what I'll do. I'll keep curing them...for my own sake!"


End file.
